Chapter 20
Finally, the night of the dreaded ball arrived.
Despite his dislike for social gatherings, Kenneth dressed himself in his best coat and trousers.
He was all in black, with not a lock of hair astray.
He was clean-shaven and prepared, somewhat, for a night of hobnobbing with people who only cared about his title.
Still, he stood by the base of the grand staircase, ensuring his cuffs were neat. For the first time, even his well-suited clothes felt too tight. There was a feeling in his chest he could not understand. It felt too warm.
Kenneth knew he should put a stop to it. He and Malcolm agreed that a fall could be catastrophic. But he could no longer explore the thought when he heard the clicking of heels on the steps.
He looked up, and all the breath in his chest was gone.
The world had stopped as Madeline descended the stairs, wearing a gown of silver with blue lace and silk.
Her hair was swept up and kept in place with pearls, exposing the lovely neck he had kissed until she whimpered.
This woman radiated ethereal beauty. There was a time he thought that he would be too good for any wife he chose.
Madeline had proven him wrong. Now, he wondered if he deserved her.
“You look…” Kenneth breathed, words again failing him whenever he was in front of her.
Several words scrambled in his head. Ravishing.
Beautiful. Dazzling. However, his self-control gripped him.
He had to return to his old self before it was too late.
“You look well. We should depart now, so that we can arrive on time.”
Madeline’s bright smile flickered. He could see it tighten at the edges as disappointment surfaced on her face.
“I look well?” she asked, her pitch too high. “Thank you, Your Grace. The flattery may be too much for me.”
The sarcasm was not lost on him. For the first time, Kenneth actually wanted to arrive at the ball as quickly as possible, so that he could escape her questioning eyes.
The carriage ride was quiet. In contrast, the ball was all heat and noise, and he remembered how much he hated such occasions. However, he knew what he had agreed to.
“Maddy!”
The explosive shriek made Kenneth’s eyebrow twitch. There was not enough time to prepare himself for the onslaught that descended upon them.
Portia and Selina almost flew across the ballroom, likely knowingly disregarding proper decorum as long as they could get close to their sister. Tight hugs and air kisses followed.
“You came! We thought you would be locked away in Huntington House forever!” Selina exclaimed, much to Kenneth’s shock. The youngest Quinten seemed unapologetic about what she had just said. “Oh, good evening, Your Grace. You look absolutely handsome and terrifying tonight.”
“Hush, Selina!” Lady Marlow gently scolded as she rushed to the group, apparently hearing her granddaughter from a few feet away.
“Your Grace! What an absolute honor for you to be here. You both look positively glowing! Your Grace, you must take some punch. The Earl of Sussex is near the punch bowl, but do be wary. He is droning on and on about his horses.”
Kenneth felt overwhelmed. The Marlow women could make someone feel as if they were caught in the middle of a storm with their constant chatter and open affection.
But when he looked at Madeline, all traces of bewilderment and annoyance were gone.
She was completely transformed. Her smile was soft and dazzling as she conversed and laughed with her sisters.
Her cheeks were flushed with genuine joy that she had not shown him in the quiet halls of Huntington House.
With her family, she looked lighter. Her eyes danced as she fixed Portia’s crooked hair ribbon. There was mischief in them as she whispered something in Selina’s ear.
Kenneth’s chest tightened as he watched his wife. There was a strange ache inside him. He wanted to protect her in every way, but did not yet know how to make her smile or laugh the way she was doing at the moment. Having her spend a night with her family made the ballroom much more bearable.
“Grandmama, please give Kenneth a moment to breathe,” Madeline requested, as she slid her hand into Kenneth’s arm, squeezing him. “He is not used to our noise and rapid conversation yet.”
“Nonsense, Madeline!” the older woman declared, waving her hand in dismissal. “His Grace is family now! Now, come along, girls, let us talk to some of the guests.”
Madeline turned to Kenneth, her face full of concern. “Will you be all right for just a moment?”
Kenneth opened his mouth to protest. Social gatherings made him bounce back and forth between anxiety and boredom, all while looking like a placid snob. All he could give his wife was a stiff, resigned nod.
“Please do not be long,” he said in his usual monotone.
“I will not,” she promised, smiling brightly at him.
When Madeline joined her grandmother and sisters, Kenneth felt completely exposed. He stood there, trying not to meet anybody’s eyes even as guests milled around, openly gawking at him.
Later on, he let Lord Marlow corner him while his wife moved across the ballroom with her sisters. The old man had too many stories up his sleeve and could talk for hours, even though he could not hear the replies.
“Then, one of the horses tripped. It dragged the carriage down, and I fell out of the side door and came face to face with a badger!” the old man bellowed.
Lord Marlow had to talk loudly to hear himself, and thus, Kenneth had to endure the ringing in his ears.
“That is quite fascinating, Lord Marlow,” Kenneth said formally. “I myself have never been in contact with a badger. Until now.”
However, it was not a badger that sat on his foot.
The soft but solid weight belonged to Lord Marlow’s prize ginger cat.
It was chubby and furry, and rubbing its face on his shoe.
It was too close, close enough for him to feel like he was about to sneeze.
His throat began to itch, and his eyes watered.
Still, he could not tell Lord Marlow that felines had this effect on him.
When Madeline turned to look their way, he even bent down and patted the cat.
What am I doing? Petting the beast that is tightening my windpipe shows I have lost my mind!
In another corner of the ballroom, Madeline stood with Cathy, Portia, and Selina. She shared her disappointment about the past few days.
“My plans have been an utter failure so far,” Madeline whispered, fidgeting with her gloves.
Her usual optimism faded as soon as she was able to mingle with her sisters alone.
“I thought the dessert and the picnic would change things. But look at him. He barely speaks to me, and not just because this is a social situation. He has been like that at home for the past few days.”
“He is a duke, Maddy,” Cathy said, fanning herself. “They are not well known for displays of emotion in public. However, the situation at home can be resolved. He must be terribly occupied with his ledgers.”
“Or overwhelmed by your beauty,” Selina added, with a little smirk.
“No. I do not think that is the case,” Madeline grumbled. “I made an effort to dress like this tonight, and all he said was that I looked well, as if I had just recovered from illness. Now, he is back to being a handsome statue.”
She paused, swallowing hard. A heavier realization had settled over her. While she felt she had failed to elicit emotions and inspire love in her husband, she could not deny that they had become closer.
In the dark, as soon as the doors closed behind them, Kenneth’s mouth and hands were warm on her skin, his touch and kisses urgent. There was no denying that his body craved hers, just as she craved him. However, as soon as they were out of the bedchamber, he was back to his cold self.
Perhaps that was all it was to him. He was a man, after all.
Perhaps he was only interested in a physical relationship.
Ultimately, he would require an heir unless he was willing to pass on the Dukedom to his brother and Alexander.
What if she had merely thrown caution to the wind for something purely physical?
She should not have given too much and too easily when she knew she would be the only one affected. And yet... She could not resist him.
“Maddy?” Portia asked softly. “Are you all right?”
Madeline realized she had gone quiet, completely consumed by thoughts of Kenneth.
Madeline smiled tightly, smoothing her skirts. “Oh, yes, I am fine. I am only realizing that some walls are harder to climb or breach.”
The sisters were thoughtful for a moment until Selina decided to break the silence.
“May I be excused?” Selina asked. “Dancing is about to commence, and my card is full.”
“Of course! This ball is partly to ensure you meet some eligible bachelors, Selina,” Cathy said.
Not long after their youngest sister had left, they saw several young men headed her way.
“Well, at least someone is a success in this family,” Lady Marlow observed as she joined her granddaughters.
The rest of the sisters instinctively straightened their postures. Their grandmother was loving, but she also elicited obedience and attention. Lady Marlow snapped her fan shut with a decisive click as her eyes followed her youngest granddaughter’s movements on the dance floor.
“Just look at her,” Lady Marlow murmured, the pride on her face softening the lines on it. “She has caught the attention of young and even not-so-young men, even on her debut. Yet, she knows how to navigate the social scene. I believe she will land a duke in no time.”
A slight pause followed the declaration as their grandmother watched Selina dance with a possible suitor, glassy-eyed. Was she trying not to cry?
“I am terribly proud of our dear girl,” she continued.
“Oh, certainly. We are all proud of our dear Selina,” Cathy murmured affectionately.
“Which is more than what can be said for the lot of you. I had to go through some hoops to see you settled. Not to mention Portia, who still resists any talk of marriage,” Lady Marlow said.
“Now that you mention it, Grandmama. Since our dear Selina is out there representing the family, I think I will take a stroll through the library,” Portia chimed before leaving.
Lady Marlow scoffed in mock indignation, but Madeline smiled.
She was happy that Selina was already having a good Season.
Still, her mind went back to her own situation and how she wanted something more with Kenneth, not just something physical.
She thought she had gotten close, but perhaps she had always relied on wishful thinking.
“I need a moment,” Madeline murmured. “I apologize, but the heat is a little overwhelming in here.”
She weaved into the crowd, hoping to get some refreshment. A familiar woman stepped directly into her path.
Lady Rose?
It was indeed Lady Rose. She could still remember the cruel look on her face when she had pushed her.
Before she could react, the woman tilted her glass of red wine and tipped it forward.
The wine splashed on Madeline’s dress, marring the silver-blue with the deep red.
The crimson stain looked almost like a wound near her heart.
“How clumsy of me,” Lady Rose exclaimed, her mouth forming an O of surprise, but her eyes told a different story. They looked cold and calculating.
Madeline gasped, her hands clutching at the stain. The silk and lace would be ruined, just as the night certainly already was. She felt the eyes of nearby guests and whispers creeping so close to them. She could not bear it. The urge to escape grew within her.
“Excuse me,” she managed to choke out, fleeing the ballroom.
Heart pounding, she headed for the library. She found Tristan’s bottle of wine by his desk and dabbed some of it onto the stain with her handkerchief, hoping to neutralize the color. It felt useless, though, and she was already frustrated.
“Dabbing it will not help,” a voice called out, right after the door opened behind her and clicked shut.
Madeline spun around to see Lady Rose only a few feet behind her. She almost looked like a specter with the candles framing her outline.
“Why are you here, Lady Rose?” Madeline asked, her posture becoming rigid. “What do you want?”
“I was not done talking when you left, Madeline.” She walked deliberately toward Madeline, flapping her fan open and closed near her chest. She looked at her from head to toe, as if finding her lacking.
“To answer your question, I am here to look at the spectacle of you even closer. You and your family are a disgrace,” Lady Rose said, curling her lips.
“And despite that, you dared trick the Duke of Huntington into marrying you. One would think you would not have the gall to respond to his advertisement.”
“If you are merely here to insult my family and me, it is best that you leave the premises, Lady Rose.”
“Why? Do you not want anyone to provide a perfect observation of how you and His Grace are ill-matched? It is quite obvious to everyone at the ball that His Grace does not care for you. He stands there as if he had been forced to accompany you.”
“My husband does as he pleases. I never force him to do anything,” Madeline replied, even as her chest felt like it would explode.
“Everyone can see that he merely tolerates this union. You should have let him choose a woman of impeccable breeding, a woman like me. That way, he would have had the practical match he asked for, not a wife with her head in the clouds.”
The words cut like a knife because they mirrored what Madeline herself was thinking. She felt tears pricking her eyes, but she would not let that woman have the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
Still, she did not allow herself to answer. Bitter words might rush out, somehow proving the hateful lady in front of her right.
“You should mind your own business, Lady Rose. If you ever find a husband, even with your foul personality, you may comment on my marriage.”
Madeline must have hit a nerve, because Lady Rose’s face transformed before her eyes. The woman’s face turned purple with rage. Her eyes bulged as she cried, “You little gutter rat! If it were not for you, the Duke could have married me!”
Then, she lunged at Madeline, raising her hand in blind fury, fingers curling into claws, aiming to give Madeline an open-palmed slap.
Madeline flinched, waiting for the blow to hit, but the strike never came. When her eyes opened, she saw Kenneth gripping the woman’s arm. He gripped it so hard that the woman whimpered.
“Get out,” he ordered. “Now.”